Everything that took me to Japan
The first thing I felt was anguish. How are we already leaving Buenos Aires, I can’t go now, I don’t want to go now, what am I going to do with all this, with my nephews who already call me “auntie”, my new desk, the honey light that comes in through the window at ten in the morning, the peach teas that I take standing in the kitchen, my nights learning to draw, the journals that I stack on the bedside table, the workshops I give in Buenos Aires, the presentations of my book that will remain pending, the groups that take me to any point of the city, the china girl who gives me dulce de leche candies when She sees me with a cough, snacks with friends, the illustrations of Flow that I stick on the wall, all this living space that contains me. I knew that the plan was a year here and then Japan and then I don’t know but I had the illusion of stretching it, that suddenly it would be 2017 and oh, we are still here, and that suddenly it would be 2020 and oh, we are still in Buenos Aires and Look, we never left again and the writer definitely beat the traveler.
I traveled for two years — for eight — looking for a home, only to realize that that home was here, where I started, that I went around the world so I could go home. And now it’s my turn to go again, just as I was getting settled. I felt that they were about to take me out of my habitat as if I were a stuffed animal inside a machine and a hook was about to grab me to throw me through a hole into another reality.
I was like this for three days.
On the third day, something in my head told me: “Stop. What’s wrong? You like to travel. Nor is it torture to go to Japan. “
And I started looking for tickets. I looked at all the options that appeared in the search engines, I compared, I tried to buy one and my card bounced and Buenos Aires — Tokyo appeared with a stopover in New York at a very good price.
I didn’t even think about it. I called by phone: “Can you extend the scale in NY to stay a week? For the same price? Ready. Give me two. One way”. Departure date: September 6. Three months and ten days to go. Suddenly I felt that I had three months and ten days to live (in Buenos Aires) and something inside me was activated.
As if they had wound me up, I started organizing more book presentations, I decided to give the creative writing workshops that I had been postponing — “I’m going to be in Buenos Aires quite a bit” — I sent messages to my friends,
in three months We are leaving I want to see you, I finished pending work, I started new editorial projects, I tidied up the house, I gave things away on Facebook, I sold others on Mercado Libre, I started reading as I hadn’t read for a long time, knowing that my library is not going with me. The urgency to make the most of time.
I thought: I can’t believe we’re going to Japan, and I started filling pages of my notebook with things I want to do and see and find in Japan.
I was like this — I’m still like this, hyper-activated — for several days. But the anguish did not go away completely and I did not quite understand why. I discussed it with my friends from school.
— I feel that I live in a duality, I am two people: the traveler who wants to go around the world and …
“… And Ani,” said Sofi, who has known me since sixth grade.
That night or the next I went through my first travel journal, the one from 2008, looking for ideas to write an article that I had been commissioned from Costa Rica. When I reread myself I came across the texts of someone who is no longer me and I understood that traveling with 30 is not going to be the same as traveling with 20 because now I look for and care about other things. I also understood that nothing forces me to travel as before, that I do not have to be tied to the ghost of my old self, that it is time to let go of my past rules and create new ones, to change my paradigm, to accept the transition: no longer “ travel light in search of a home ”but rather“ travel slowly and with home on top ”, take it in my luggage, even if it weighs a little more. And realizing this, as obvious as it sounds to me now, relieved me and took away my anguish. Being certain that I can always continue to choose how to travel, that there is no right or wrong way, gave me peace of mind. “I have already found my home: L, the notebooks, the bookmarks, the journals , the books, my workspace. That going on a trip does not mean losing everything I have earned and what is good for me, “I wrote in my notebook, followed by: “ We are actually moving our lives to Japan for a while.
The one in Japan will be the journey of changes:
I am going to change my photographic equipment for one that is much more portable and lighter,
I am going to go back to street photography,
I am going to reduce all my notebooks to just one
(I am in the middle of casting, choosing which one to use. goes with me),
I’m going to take my daily rituals with me and see if I can adapt them to my life there,
I’m going to take several journals and the materials for drawing and coloring,
even if they weigh me in my backpack,
moment: am I going to carry a backpack? ,
I begin to think of other options, although the backpack is difficult to put down.
I don’t want to move so fast anymore, neither does L,
even if that means getting to know fewer cities.
I can no longer be a constant guest.
I am tempted by the idea of taking care of houses , it
does not tempt me: it seems ideal for this next trip
because as Maga says, it is a way of traveling and being at home at the same time.
We leave with a one-way ticket and with the plan of living several months in each place.
I do not know when we will return
but I know that there is always the possibility of returning.
I want my main occupations in Japan to be walking, taking photos, writing:
filling notebooks and blogs, thinking about a future book.
I want to stop being my own secretary,
stop postponing writing afternoons because I have to answer emails,
stop going out because I have to solve things.
I want Japan to give me back the free time that Buenos Aires takes from me.
Because the trip, I realize, gives me that: time.
Time that in Buenos Aires is full of urgent things and commitments and meetings that I cannot not specify because who knows how long I will be here and all that.
I want to reconnect with my traveling self.
I want to build my subjective map of each place I visit
